


"things change. and friends leave. life doesn't stop for anybody."

by allmenarepigx



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: aka i was listening to sad music again and crying over kuroko, sad graduation fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-23
Updated: 2014-12-23
Packaged: 2018-03-02 23:30:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2829974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allmenarepigx/pseuds/allmenarepigx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"What happened to you, after the middle school championship game?"<br/>"I don't know."</p>
            </blockquote>





	"things change. and friends leave. life doesn't stop for anybody."

Parents swarm around the building, fighting and clawing their way to the front of the crowd to their children. The graduation had just finished, and many were taking pictures. The sakura trees surrounding the whole building were bright pink, some blossoms floating down with the breeze. 

It was an exceptionally hot day, but the welcoming breeze made it bearable. The boys, in their suits, and the girls in their skirts - everyone was talking excitedly in the most bittersweet way. 

The boy with hair the same colour as the sky slips away from the crowd, knowing that no one would notice. Shouts and cries of his classmates got further and further away as he follows one of the most familiar pathways throughout his middle school experience. He checks the metal door, making sure there wasn’t a lock, and steps inside. He takes off his regular shoes, of course, and walks into the gym. 

The windows surrounding the gym cause white marks across the wooden floor, the artificial light turned off in the early day rays. The air conditioning was off, though it didn’t make the gym uncomfortable - it was at a perfect medium. The basketball boards seem almost ghostly; there was no noise of squeaking shoes or shouts of glee ringing out. 

The boy’s lips draw into a frown. It felt like a dream, like he had blinked his eyes and suddenly he was no longer in a practice uniform, that suddenly his teammates were no longer spread out through the gym. It felt like he blinked his eyes and suddenly he is very very alone, despite the irony that he had been alone for months even when said people were here. 

His brow furrows. He feels his emotions stirring in his chest. He didn’t consider himself a hugely sentimental person at all. And yet, as he stands here, it seems so hard to let go of things. He should be surrounded by pink sakura petals and yet he finds himself surrounded by stands that people once rioted in when his teammates and him performed an amazing stunt to please the crowd. He clenches his fist. 

He hears a noise, and just like the fast paced memories, the door he went through opens. At first he can’t make out who it was, just see the blinding white of the sun, but then the figure comes through and the door shuts. The gym is suddenly very humid, and he can feel the sweat he wasn’t aware of before running down his face. 

It was his grandmother. 

She grins at him. “Tetsu,” she calls out, making her way closer. His grandmother had also taken off her shoes and her blue eyes seem to catch on to the mood but her smile doesn’t fall off her face. Kuroko watches as she finally stands next to him, in the center of the gym floor. It is quiet for a while, silence falling between them. He’s staring ahead, at the basketball net. 

Staring, staring at the basketball net in hopes of remembering what it felt like to pass to one of his teammates, trying to remember the victory in a perfect layup with his former light. He’s broken from his trance at his grandmother’s hum and laughter. He looks at her, asking an unspoken question. 

“I was just thinking,” she says cheerfully, “that you only graduate middle school once. So what do you say you and I ditch your parents and go to that sports complex in the city? I’ll buy you a new basketball.” 

He mumbles something, which the older woman doesn’t hear due to her “deafness,” that all older people seem to suffer from to some degree. There’s worry deep within her, but she doesn’t say anything about her grandchild’s mood. She was concerned, yes, but a firm believer that he would tell her if something was wrong when he wants to. 

“What was that, dear? Repeat that for me, will you?” 

“I said,” Kuroko whispers, staring very intently down at his shaking fists, “that I hate basketball.” The way the boy spoke of it - with such passion, such venom in his trembling form - almost could’ve fooled someone else who did not know him. 

She’s silent. Watching him have his own mental fit. She knew he wouldn’t scream or fight, no, her Tetsuya was too smart for that. He was a bottle of emotions and he opens up in his own special ways. The gym smells like cleaning supplies, and each door was perfectly closed. 

She taps her chin. “Are you sure about that?” she asks, looking down at the fifteen-year old. 

He doesn’t respond. 

“You know,” she continues, “I always thought those other kids you talked about seemed kind of special to you somehow. Especially that one boy - what was his name again? Aomine?” 

The boy lets in a heavy breathing noise. She isn’t even looking at him anymore, just looking ahead at the basketball board in a wise way only grandmothers possess. “I wish I could’ve met them, one day. They seemed like a group of fine young gentlemen, much like you. Of course, I doubt they’re as wonderful as you.” 

She forces herself to add humor now, because, how can you stand there quietly when your grandchild is sobbing? “Basketball seems like such a lovely sport. I was so happy to come to your games.” With a gently weathered hand she tugs the boy towards her, pulling her in to her frail side. “However, the real reason I liked going to your game was because of how happy you looked, playing the sport. I can’t believe the passes you made! It was like the whole team...relied on you.” 

Tetsuya sniffs. It was okay for him to cry. It was okay for anyone to cry. She rubs up and down his arm soothingly, her lips drawn in a kind smile. “But I suppose that’s over now.” 

He looks up at her in confusion at her blunt ending and her smile turns foxy. “Don’t look at me like that, Tetsuya,” she scolds lightheartedly. “I wasn’t the one to say I hated basketball, was I?” 

Though spoken in a teasing way the boy knew his grandmother was disappointed in him. His heart swells and he forces a laugh. “I apologize, grandmother,” he says. And he means it, and it was enough. 

They go back into a lapsing silence, but their eyes are locked. Suddenly, his grandmother is nodding and she pats his arm. “C’mon, Tetsuya, let’s go get a milkshake. I’ll tell your parents to meet us there.” She begins walking away, before noticing he was still standing there. “Are you coming? Or do you need a moment?” 

“I’ll come,” he says. He looks back up at the board one last time. He slowly uncurls his hands from their fists. His gaze runs around the gym for the very last time, and he thinks to himself, This is it; this is the last time I will ever come back here or feel the same amount of strife over what has been.

Instead of being consumed in his thoughts he flashes to the presents, dashing after his somehow-fast-moving grandmother and opens the door with a new determination. He is blinded by the white light outside but he is okay with it.


End file.
